


Do You Want...

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Series: Sleepy Hollow OTP Prompts [3]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Cooking in the Cabin, Dessert & Sweets, Domesticity, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Ichabod Crane Learning about the 21st Century, S'mores
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 22:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2523989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>S'mores?</p><p>
  <b>Prompt: Imagine Person B teaching Person A to make s'mores.</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Want...

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, so even though he's not from this century, he still wouldn't know because the British apparently don't have what are traditional s'mores to Americans for a lack of graham crackers! But Abbie teaches him, never fear. :)
> 
> I do not own _Sleepy Hollow_. Thanks for reading!

Okay, Crane, you're missing out on one of the best things about this century. We're making s'mores."

Ichabod frowned slightly, watching the Lieutenant pull a box of something called ‘graham crackers’ out of the shopping bag, followed with a bar of chocolate and a bag of marshmallows. "What is a ‘s'more’?"

"It's, like, a contraction, of the words ‘some more’, which you'll always say you want some more of these, hence the name: s'mores."

Ichabod raised an eyebrow. "Curious process of naming a meal."

Abbie grinned, breaking open the box of crackers. "Yeah, well, I didn't make it up. We're doing this over your fire."

At this, Ichabod perked up. "We're cooking a meal over the fire?" he asked. It wasn't often now that he was able to entertain some of things that were commonplace in his day, especially in combat, such as cooking over open flame. He enjoyed the indescribable taste that flame gave to food.

"It's a snack, not a meal. Take this stuff over to the hearth, I'll be right back."

Ichabod looked between the foodstuffs on the table and Abigail, who was leaving the cabin. "Where are you going?"

"To get some sticks!"

Ichabod marveled at the door as it closed behind her. This was very much his era, although he didn't know what was to come of these honey-coloured crisps, the chocolate (this he had had before now; Abbie liked sweets), and the white things called marshmallows that were soft and pliable beneath his fingers. The marshmallows, in particular, seemed incredibly foreign to him.

Nonetheless, he was more than willing to learn more about this century. If Abigail said that these s'mores were one of the best things of her lifetime, Ichabod would happily defer to her judgment.

He pushed his chair closer to the hearth and set the supplies down nearby, sitting down with his hands on his knees to wait.

Abbie returned quickly, two sticks in her hands. "Okay, I'm pretty sure there's nothing deadly on these. Open those marshmallows."

"Are we to spear these small, white clouds and roast them?" Ichabod asked, following Abbie's order.

"That we are, Crane. Here, just one."

He took the stick Abbie offered him, following her example of sliding the marshmallow onto the end of the stick. "Is the stick traditional?"

"Uh, usually you make these when you camp, so it's kind of obligatory."

"I see."

"Alright, put that down for a sec. Now take this-" she snapped one of the graham crackers in two, handing him the pieces, "and snap off a piece of that chocolate bar to fit. Like you're making a sandwich with the chocolate on the inside, but leave the top off for now."

"Okay." Ichabod still had little idea where this was going to go. Was it necessary to have graham crackers? Was the chocolate just for additional sweetness? What were marshmallows meant to taste like?

"I'll do yours first, then you can make them afterwards." Abbie picked up the marshmallow spit, holding it over the fire. "You want to make sure this gets good and hot. I like my burnt. But you have to be careful because they will catch on fire."

Ichabod nodded. Marshmallows were flammable; it was knowledge he needed to know for this particular venture into modern food.

"When this is hot... you can see how it's kind of melting down the stick, get your graham cracker." She glanced over. "The one with the chocolate. I'm gonna put this marshmallow on it, you put the extra graham cracker over the top, and squish."

"Very well." Ichabod watched carefully as Abbie pulled the marshmallow from the fire and then placed it onto the chocolate-graham cracker combination. He followed the Lieutenant's instructions to put the other cracker over the top and hold firmly.

Abbie pulled the stick free of the marshmallow and smiled up at him. "Now you eat it."

Ichabod looked between the Lieutenant and the s'more. The marshmallow had expanded and now gooey and sticky; the heat from it was melting the chocolate piece he had put on the graham cracker. So that was the point!

"While it's hot," Abbie added.

Ichabod straightened, pulling his finger away from a clump of sticky marshmallow. "Right." He leaned forward and took a bite. The graham crackers were crisp and crumbly, the chocolate was melting, and the marshmallow was incredibly sweet and incredibly sticky. It was... good. It was _really_ good.

"These are good," he said out loud.

Abbie laughed, reaching for her own marshmallow to roast. "You say that about just about everything you try. When will you learn not to doubt me?"

"I will never doubt your expertise on food again, Miss Mills," he replied, and took another bite of the s'more. A dollop of melted chocolate squeezed from the opposite end of the snack, landing on his trousers. He made a noise of equal parts disappointment and irritation for a lack of being able to speak due to food in his mouth.

"Nice," Abbie commented, stretching for the napkins nearby.

Ichabod swallowed, licking his lips afterwards. He hadn't even ate half of it and already the marshmallow was wreaking havoc on his fingers and lips. "These are messy."

Abbie laughed quietly, which turned into raised eyebrows and a wide grin when she looked back at him. "You've got marshmallow in your beard."

Ichabod quickly reached for another napkin.

 


End file.
